


Why Don't We Do It in the Road? (A Progression)

by odiko_ptino



Series: Featured Character: Eros [1]
Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: (eros used to be an asshole), (he's reformed), F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Other, tw: gross attitudes towards assault, tw: reference to traumatic death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 20:11:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17029230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odiko_ptino/pseuds/odiko_ptino
Summary: How Eros went from being an immature asshole to the lovable kinky matchmaker he is today.





	Why Don't We Do It in the Road? (A Progression)

[“Why don’t we do it in the road?”](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D5AdtR-d2HJQ&t=OTM5M2ZjMzA1MjY1MDQzOGE4ZDAxMjE2MGQzNmYyNmQzOTM1OGJhZixtck1XOUtIeA%3D%3D&b=t%3AGnmdICjDuK7R3w3mWc60SA&p=https%3A%2F%2Fodiko-ptino.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F170911924377%2Fwhy-dont-we-do-it-in-the-road-a-progression&m=1)

Paul McCartney’s voice warbles out of the speaker, while the guitar jangles and Ringo’s handclaps keep the time.

Eros is familiar with the backstory: McCartney had seen two monkeys copulate in a street in Rishikesh, in India, and mused at how simple and normal the act had been.  There was no drama, no emotional turmoil, just a quick in-and-out.  Neither monkey seemed bothered.  Just do it in the road.

That had been Eros’ personal manifesto for many centuries.  Well, after all, what else could it be?  He’s the god of sex – love belongs to Aphrodite.  The two are closely linked, but they are distinct, and Eros was intended to be solely in charge of sex: those lusty urges. Nothing more.  

Of course, he’s changed. They’ve all come a pretty long way from who they used to be.  But he still sometimes feels a twinge of nostalgia, and wishes again that sex could be so simple.  Just do it! Sex should be uncomplicated and fun (and  _funny_ ), the way it was meant to be.

It had been Eros’ stubborn insistence on maintaining that credo, that most of the Erotes even came to exist in the first place.

————————–

In the early days of Eros’ existence, there’s some cooing over Poseidon and his new lover, Nerites. The two of them adore each other – rare, among the lovers of the gods.  Typically the interest is either one-sided or ephemeral; rarely mutual and lasting.  Nerites has the patience for Poseidon’s moodiness and for his part, Poseidon finds himself cheered and calmed by his lover’s presence.  They’re inseparable and can more or less constantly be found racing each other across the waves on Poseidon’s bizarre hippocampus-drawn chariots.

Nerites had earned the spite of Helios one day, by racing east-to-west across the sea and making it slightly ahead of the sun Titan.  In annoyance, Helios had turned the young man into some kind of sea snail (“See how fast you go now, brat!”).

Ordinarily, it’s considered Very Bad Manners among the gods to undo one another’s curses, even if one favors the unfortunate mortal.  It’s understood that one can help their favored cursed mortal in succeeding  _in spite of_  another god’s handicap (Athena and Zeus are particularly dedicated in this), but the curse remains.  It takes a substantial amount of willpower and focus and intent for a god to undo a curse.  

For Nerites, Poseidon does it.  

It visibly exhausts him; he may be the Lord of the Sea, but Helios is an ancient Titan and the curse is formidable.  Nonetheless, his determination to bring Nerites back is successful, and the handsome young man is restored.  Nerites’ love for Poseidon increases immensely when he sees what the god has done for him, and they’re back to smooching and falling into bed with each other, as before.

(Luckily for all, Helios, incapable of holding a grudge for any length of time, has already forgotten that he ever cursed the kid in the first place, and does not follow up on his original ire.  Nerites humbly keeps his racing to a minimum anyway)

Eros watches the entire story play out with a detached curiosity, and when it appears that the status quo has been restored with no further drama, he loses interest completely.  

Aphrodite thinks it’s sweet.

“Look at them,” she says, as she reclines on the sand of a beach.  Eros is playing in the surf, and glances up to see Poseidon and Nerites in the distance, fooling around as usual.  “Isn’t that nice?  They care so much for each other.  It’s so unusual for Poseidon.”

Poseidon has a poor track record for finding lovers that share his enthusiasm.  Not Eros’ business either way, and he says as much.  “They do fuck a lot, though, so that’s something!”

Aphrodite sighs. “Yes, but I mean… it’s nicer when the feeling’s mutual, don’t you think?”

“It feels nice however way.”

“Right, perhaps, but when there’s reciprocation, it’s so much more powerful!”

Eros shrugs, attempting to catch a fish.  All he gets is a handful of foam.  “Yeah, I guess.”

She presses her point. “Because if both of you want the same thing –”

“…You get your own physical satisfaction, as well as the delight of knowing you’ve helped give pleasure to someone you care for.  Yes, I agree!”

Aphrodite and Eros both look startled as a voice comes from the foam in Eros’ hands.  The foam coalesces and begins to form the shape of a young man with a half-shave haircut, tied into a wolf’s tail on top. “I think you’re right.  There’s definitely a difference between sex for the sake of it, and sex between two who truly love each other.”

Aphrodite is far cleverer than most of the Olympians would give her credit for (plus, she has the advantage of being one of only five creatures in existence who know the true origins of herself and her son: the other four being Eros and the Fates).  She swiftly determines what has happened and gives Eros an unimpressed look.  

“You created a new god specifically so you could avoid having to deal with  _nuance_  in your job?”

Eros watches in fascination as the young man begins to solidify and take on handsome features. It hadn’t been a mindful intent, but, well… when you’re the god of procreation, sometimes this shit happens, apparently.  “Yeah! Great idea, right?  Now I can go back to just setting people off fucking again. No need to bother me with romantic crap.”  

He gives the new god a critical onceover.  “We’ll call you Anteros.  Love returned.  Your job is to handle the delicate stuff, mutual feelings and so on.  You can coordinate with me when it’s time to actually  _do the do_.”

Anteros, thirty seconds old, smiles, unbothered by his surprising appearance into the world. “Sure thing!  I’ll give it my all!  It deserves no less-”

Eros cuts off this monologue by making a rude noise with his tongue and dragging his new companion off to play.

—-

Hymenaios is the next Erote to be born.

Eros generally takes the form of a young man – his apparent age has crept up over the centuries, as the ages of adolescence and adulthood have been pushed further and further back for most of humanity, but he’s found that a young man, who’s just discovering the joys his dick can bring, best represents his personal creed.  

As such, when it comes time to coordinate with Queen Hera to bring about marital bliss, Eros cannot overstate how uninterested he is.

For her part, Queen Hera seems to be equally put off by the idea of coordinating her domain with the rowdy, mischievous god of rampant horniness.  She particularly dislikes Eros, suspecting him of being the instigator of her husband’s infidelities – which, for some of them, he is.  It’s hilarious.  Grandpa Zeus does some of the weirdest shit to try to hook up with these mortals – turning into a bull?  A swan? _Golden rain??_   But even Eros can’t keep up with  _all_  of his shenanigans; he estimates his arrows are responsible for maybe half of them.

Anyway, regarding ‘marital bliss,’ it’s not as though Eros particularly minds shooting his arrows at the wedded couples, but he can’t be bothered to care about them particularly. He tends to go with the most amusing or fun scenario; and couples aren’t always the most amusing or fun.  

Aphrodite doesn’t care much for the institution of marriage, thinking of it as a political or economic union that stands in her way as the goddess of love, so her petitions to Eros to take it more seriously are half-hearted and Eros thinks he might be able to avoid this duty altogether.

Unfortunately for him, Queen Hera is a  _pro_  at needling irresponsible gods.

“Listen, you bratty little shit, this is important.  People can’t be stuck in loveless marriages forever!”

Eros raises a finger. “Aha! But there, you see, Grandma Hera – ”

“And stop calling me that! I’m your  _queen_.”

“…Queen Grandma Hera – you said it yourself.  ‘Loveless marriages.’  Love! Not sex.  Go ask Mom.”

“Your mother is already doing her part.  But bringing together love and marriage and turning it into a successful night in bed is more  _complicated_ , and we need your cooperation!”

Eros groans at this pronouncement.  “Ugh, Queen Grandma Hera!  You’re just gonna turn this into some prude thing!”

Hera bristles visibly and is clearly about to turn this into a shouting match, when she’s interrupted by a voice from off to the side, by a nearby fountain.

“Well, perhaps a ‘prude’ thing is the wrong word for it.  It’s more that marriage has unique requirements for sex.  It’s a form of commitment – these people are swearing to stay together for the rest of their lives.  It’s a lot! There’s a lot of pressure, and they have to try to make it work through thick and thin.  I can see there being a different category of sex for people trying to form a family.  Trying to keep the spark alive even when so much is at stake surely needs more dedicated work.”

It’s easier this time, because he’s already done it once.  Another young man, with dark skin and handsome features and tight curls of hair atop his head, approaches them.  Hera blinks in surprise.  

“… And you are…?” she asks too startled to even be offended that some random person just interrupted her.

“Queen Grandma Hera, this is – Hymenaios.  The ‘bridal hymn.’  The god of marital bliss.  I think you’ll find he has all the answers you need,” Eros says, and beats a path out of there before she can catch him again.  He leaves Hymenaios the unenviable task of being a bridge between Eros and Hera.  

‘Marital bliss’ – honestly! You’re either doing it, or you’re not! What’s so damn complicated about it?!

————–

Anteros is optimistic and enthusiastic.  Hymenaios is unflappably calm – a necessity of being able to coordinate between two polar opposite entities.

Pothos, the third Erote, is far and away the most dramatically emotional of the Love Gods thus far.  He probably would get on Eros’ nerves more if he weren’t so endearingly earnest.

As the Erote of longing, perhaps it’s baked into his job description to be dramatic.  He arises shortly after the Big Seasonal Arrangement is organized, between Demeter, Persephone, and Hades.  Hymenaios and Anteros had been deeply involved during that first long winter.  Had it occurred to Demeter to ask him, Eros could have told her where her daughter was.

While Demeter despaired and wept, and the world turned cold and dying as a result, Mutual Affection and Marital Bliss had begun their stupid,  _complicated_  efforts to turn a reclusive god’s loneliness and a young goddess’ uncertain curiosity into a real thing.  Eros was forbidden from coming anywhere near the situation, which was fine with him.  Whatever fragile and new relationship was forming between Persephone and Hades, it certainly was not sexual hijinks, and any pure smoldering sex was buried in drama, so Eros didn’t see a need to involve himself.

After summer comes again, Persephone joins Aphrodite on a walk one day, while Eros fools around nearby.

Persephone is sighing. “It’s not that I’m unhappy with the arrangement.  I did miss Mother.  But now… I miss him, too.”  

“Yes,” says Aphrodite, who is currently in the midst of her turbulent marriage to Hephaestus and missing Ares.  “There’s a certain poignancy to being apart from him, I’m sure.”

“There really is!  It makes me want him even more-”

Eros, overhearing, decides to cut them off at the pass.  He closes his eyes briefly and then there’s Pothos, appearing out of nowhere with his man-bun and scruffy beard and soulful eyes, commiserating with the two women and agreeing that longing for a partner makes the desire even stronger.

—————

Hedylogos, the fourth Erote, doesn’t add dramatic feelings to the mix so much as he adds strategy and cunning.  

“That’s a cynical way to put it,” the god of sweet talk objects, but, well, Eros is not subtle with his speech.  Thus the need for Hedylogos to exist.

Hedy comes about when the youngest Olympian, Dionysus, decides to aim for the stars – almost literally, by determining to woo the primordial goddess Nyx.

Nyx, one of the most ancient beings in existence, is not easily impressed.  She has seen beautiful forms beyond counting – male and female, god and titan and mortal.  There is no question that if she does not care to be courted by the upstart god, then the courting will not happen, mainly because she would probably crush Dionysus out of existence.

“That’s why I really gotta make a good case for myself to her, you know?  Really catch her interest!” Dionysus explains to a flummoxed Zeus.  

He’d been hoping that Zeus, being the most powerful Olympian, would have some insight as to how to woo such a being.  But of course Zeus, like nearly every other god with good sense, is terrified of Nyx and feels the best course of action is to steer clear.  Dionysus thinks that a woman powerful enough to end him, has  _got_  to be pretty exciting in bed.

Eros admires Dionysus’ gumption and ambition, but still doesn’t think he’s personally got the subtlety that Dionysus needs.  So he creates Hedylogos, a young man of crystal blue eyes and sparkling personality, to help Dionysus come up with fun and sexy things to say to get Nyx’s attention; how to be charming; and (very crucial to the god’s survival) how to interpret her responses and body language to press forward or back swiftly off as needed.

Eros hopes Dio survives. Actually, he thinks Nyx will like him. She’s still technically Eros’ sister, after all, and he thinks he knows her tastes.

—————

No one really knows where the Erotes come from, the way that no one quite knows how Aphrodite was born or whose son Eros really is.

(The answer: no one’s son but Chaos – though he and all the other Erotes consistently call Ares ‘Daddy,’ if for no other reason than to unsettle everyone)

For the most part, everyone assumes that Aphrodite gave birth to them all, which is sort of true in a way, and none of them correct this easy assumption.  Hermaphroditus is the first major deviation to the squad, though they don’t realize it, by way of not being split off of Eros himself.

It’s Dionysus who brings Hermaphroditus over to meet Eros – Eros’ attention is immediately caught by the unusual circumstance of this person.  

Dionysus was raised as a girl, and was born from a male, and is fairly loose and free with gender roles according to his inclination of the moment, though he trends towards male. As such, he’s been assigned a minor domain of intersex and transgender people.  This role doesn’t get him much attention, and Eros doubts there are any formal ceremonies dedicated to it, but Dionysus takes it seriously.  He’s spent the last few months walking with Hermaphroditus, as they accustom themselves to their new life.

Hermaphroditus is the result of another very unusual act of creation – a young man, the son of Hermes and Aphrodite, who met a nymph named Salmacis.  After a long, long discussion, of being a man, versus being a woman, and finding a connection in each other in feeling not quite at ease in their own bodies and the roles assigned to them, they attempted to make love – and two became one in more than the metaphorical sense.  

To their surprise, and Eros’ delight, the union of their minds took a physical form and fused the two of them together, leaving them in a body that is neither male nor female, but both.  The change was wholly unexpected and confusing, and left Hermaphroditus (the name they decided to keep) stressed and isolated.  To make matters worse, the rumors have begun to spread about the spring of Salmacis cursing men to perversion and effeminacy.  

Hermaphroditus, who has been very quiet during this explanation from Dionysus, speaks up, still in a soft voice.

“I still… don’t know how to feel about it, but… we did have something, and it –Dionysus thinks that maybe it would help – I want to be able to help anyone else, who’s going through the same thing…”

“Yeah, sure!” Eros says, waving his hand easily.

Hermaphroditus and Dionysus both blink at him in surprise.

“R-really…?” Hermaphroditus asks, uncertainly.  

“I don’t know how much worship you’ll get, but yeah, I can see this being a situation that would call for more than a generic arrow.”  Eros is completely excited and curious about this new form of creation – as the god of procreation, this is something rare, and outside the normal scope of his experience.

Hermaphroditus’ first effort comes sooner than expected.  Iphis, in a reversal from Dionysus, is a mortal woman raised as a man, and fell in love with a woman named Ianthe.  The feelings were returned, which might have simply been Anteros’ department, but the obstacle of Iphis’ gender made it complicated.  

“Hermaphroditus can help,” Eros suggests, hoping to see another fusion.

Hermaphroditus does help, though it’s not quite as exciting as creating a new life-form: they have a long discussion with both Iphis and Ianthe, asking what it is they really want from this relationship.  For her part, although Ianthe is startled to realize that her male romantic interest is biologically female, she nonetheless fell in love with a charming person named Iphis and is content to accept that person in any form.  Iphis himself determines that for better or worse, having been raised as a man for so long, that’s how he sees himself.  

The choice seems clear, if unorthodox.  Hermaphroditus petitions Aphrodite, the only love deity with enough power to transform another, to make Iphis a man in truth.  Aphrodite agrees, and to everyone’s surprise, Queen Hera is enthusiastic enough to preside over the marriage.  

“They want to enter a marriage, of course I support that!  They’re making the commitment to start a family together, rather than just flirting around and wasting time indefinitely,” Hera explains, when asked. Eros and Aphrodite still roll their eyes that Hera thinks any love or sex is wasted unless it’s for a purpose, but Eros finds himself pleasantly surprised that she’s on board with helping these two find happiness.  Maybe she’s not quite the prude he thought.

It isn’t until he’s standing around at the wedding with Hera, Aphrodite and Hymenaios, who are all pleased about the happy ending, that Eros realizes.  He remembers that he, Eros, personally said with his own mouth, that this was a situation that was  _complicated_ , and welcomed a new role to the concept of having sex, and that he predicted it correctly.  That was the beginning of the end.

———————-

His old friend Dionysus, great seductor of Nyx, is getting hitched.  All seems to be in order; Anteros is involved, and so is Hymenaios. Everyone’s in good standing.  

Then Eros meets the lucky bride, and makes a startled observation:

“Oh, it’s you! Ariadne!  Weren’t you with Theseus?”

This tactless question is also mostly pointless – Eros already knows she was lovers with Theseus. He shot the two of them himself. Everything seemed to be going swimmingly then – mutual attraction, hot sex, defeating monsters and sailing off into the sunset.  Or sailing off to the north, anyway, from Crete to Athens.  But anyway, wasn’t she boning Theseus?

It’s just as he’s belatedly realizing that clearly she isn’t anymore, and he probably shouldn’t ask, but Dionysus is familiar with Eros’ ways by now, and answers when Ariadne twists her fingers awkwardly.

“Theseus ended up being as smart as he is honorable – which is to say, not at fucking all.  He abandoned the loveliest, cleverest mortal on earth – just left her on the deserted island of Naxos!  Poor Ariadne put up with a lot of shit, but ultimately it turned out great that he’s a stupid asshole, right?”

Ariadne smiles up at him. “Yes.  It was worth everything to have you find me.”

Eros is feeling a little unmoored.  Theseus and Ariadne had been nuts for each other.  He’d seen it.  It had been a very successful shot.  The attraction had been there, it had been real.  But it had stopped?

He’s never given any thought, before, to what happens after he fires his arrows.  People get hot for each other, it either gets sexy or funny or both, Eros wanders away.  He never sees long-term fallout… never sees people lose interest in each other.  It’s very… distressing to him, suddenly, to think that people can share a passion like Theseus and Ariadne did, and enjoy each other’s company so much, only for it to fade.  And fade to the point where one partner abandoned the other to die on a deserted island, alone.  Is that the lasting effect of Eros’ work?  A moment of fun, to be replaced with pain and resentment?

At the moment, Dionysus and Ariadne are looking at him quizzically.  

“I’m… sorry you had to go through that,” Eros says.

Dionysus is shocked into silence at his words: this is the first time, in his existence, that Eros has apologized for anything.  Ariadne doesn’t realize the momentous occasion for what it is, and smiles.

“Yes, well… I haven’t thought much of him at all since Dio found me.  Theseus’ foolish choice turned out to be my good fortune, yes?”

“Yeah… yeah, I guess you got lucky…”

“ _Very_  lucky,” Dionysus says, taking her hand.  “I didn’t think anyone could measure up to Nyx, but babe, you – ”.  

“Ah-ah.  No comparing me to any goddesses, please.  I’m just happy to hear you love me,” says Ariadne, who is definitely cleverer than most.  

They’re very warm towards each other.  They clearly have the hots for each other and it’s all smiles and soft murmurs and holding hands.  But… Theseus felt the same way at one point.  Didn’t he?  

After this conversation, Eros can never fire his arrows in quite such a happy-go-lucky fashion again. He finds himself wondering all the time now, what happens to the people afterwards.

—————–

Zephyrus is not an Erote. He is one of the Anemoi – the four wind gods.  He is the west wind; the gentlest wind; the wind of springtime and flowers and fruit. And Zephyrus is a killer.

Zephyrus would be dead, were it not for Eros’ intervention.  Apollo would have murdered him, more brutally than Hyacinthus was murdered.  Eros suspects – and Zephyrus is certain – that Apollo would have had him flayed alive for the wind’s role in Hyacinthus’ death; and perhaps spared only to be thrown into Tartarus, if Zeus permitted it.

Eros intervenes.  

Looking back, he’s not quite sure why he did it.  It was just a hunch, that there was something more to it.  He had known that Zephyrus had in some way been motivated out of love. But Eros normally doesn’t take responsibility for any acts carried out in his name… unless those acts are funny, of course.

This act wasn’t funny.

Hyacinthus was beloved by all who saw him, but none more than Apollo.  Eros knows this, because he personally sent an arrow Apollo’s way, to spur him on.  And watching the vain, proud, dignified Apollo throw himself at the mortal prince was a delight to watch, right up until the jealous west wind sent a discus astray and killed the boy.

Zephyrus is Eros’ servant, now, though Eros doesn’t make much use of him.  Eros doesn’t need to be carried by the wind; he carries himself on his own wings.  And frankly, for a pretty long time afterwards, Zephyrus is depressing to be around.  He’s crippled with guilt and grief; and unlike Apollo, who mourns for the same reason, Zephyrus does not have a circle of family and friends to support him.  He only has Eros.  

Eros is an excellent friend to have for standing up to a furious Apollo, and refusing to back down and hand the wind god over for punishment.  It’s tense in the hall.  The Erotes are huddled off to the side, grouped around Zephyrus, who stares at the ground without reacting.  Apollo is nearly apoplectic with fury.  Eros has never looked so grim in his existence.  In spite of his lack of a position in the Council of Twelve, the gods all are familiar with Eros’ power, and know the damage he can do when he’s in a good mood.  They don’t want to see what he can do when angered, and they coax Apollo to back down. Tears of rage and sorrow stream down his face, but Apollo finally turns away from revenge on Zephyrus.  

So Eros did some good there.

But what Zephyrus really needs, badly, is someone to talk about his damn Feelings, and Eros is no use for that.  Not that he doesn’t try.  He makes an effort to talk to Zephyrus about it shortly after the incident, in fact:

“Hey, Z., why’d you kill that kid, anyway?  If you liked him so much?”

His attempt to be casual might have been a little too on the mark, but Zephyrus only flinches and stares off at the clouds.

“Anagapesis,” the wind god says at last, in a hoarse voice.

“Uh…?”

Zephyrus spreads his hands; an empty gesture.  “He loved me, once.  He loved me first.  He and I – ”

He sniffles, and Eros realizes to his horror that the wind god is crying.  “It just, stopped.  He saw Apollo and everything else fell away.  I fell away.  It was over, just like that.  I didn’t exist,  _we_  didn’t exist, anymore.  I couldn’t understand it.  He tried to be kind about it, I guess, but I couldn’t – he only had eyes for Apollo.  I couldn’t bear it.  Anagapesis. He fell out of love.”

“Oh… uh…”

“I still loved him.  I still do.  I never meant – I thought… the discus would fly off to the side.  Apollo would look stupid.  It would ruin their fun.  It was so petty, so stupid, and now he’s dead.”

Eros is absolutely unequipped to deal with this, but even he knows he can’t just fuck off out of this situation, no matter how desperately he wants to.  

“Hey… look, Zephyrus, we all live a long time.  You’ll find someone new.  You’ll get past this.”  

Zephyrus doesn’t look like he feels any better.  His shoulders slump further, wings dragging on the ground.  “Yes, I suppose you’re right.  Eventually.  Hyacinthus will be just a moment lost in time.”

Eros blessedly catches sight of Aphrodite and flags her down desperately.  She’ll know how to talk about this, probably.  Better than Eros can, anyway.

Eros knows he was right. Gods live an awful long time, and this unpleasantness around Hyacinthus’ death will wear off.  And isn’t that what he’s all about?  Sex being fun and uncomplicated and existing for its own sake?

———————

“Anagapesis,” he thinks to himself, as he visits Psyche again.  It’s dark, again, and she calls him “lover,” as she doesn’t know his name. She never must.

He’s never loved anyone before.  He’s never experienced, personally, any of the things that the other Erotes talk about. He’s always just let his dick lead the way.  But now, it’s as though all of the Erotes have returned to him, and are driving his actions.

He loves her, and he feels a crushing relief that she seems to care for him in return (Anteros). Unable to show her his physical attractiveness, he uses sweet speech to compliment her, to turn her on, to tell her he cares for her (Hedylogos).  When he’s gone from his secret palace, as he is every day, he thinks of her constantly: the feel of her skin, the whispered sound of her voice, the taste of her on his tongue, and longs for her (Pothos).  He even has been thinking of staying with her indefinitely, of always caring for her, of having a family with her (Hymenaios).  

(Hermaphroditus’ domain is a little more niche than applies here, but even so, Eros can more easily imagine the indignation Iphis and Ianthe must have felt, at finding the love of their life and being forbidden from being together. It had been speculative on his part before, but how he  _gets it_ )

But, he keeps thinking of Ariadne, abandoned on the shore of Naxos.  He thinks of Zephyrus, left bewildered and hurt enough to do something terrible, which haunts him forever.  He thinks, with a gnawing guilt, of all the times Zeus has set off to betray his wife.  He thinks of Hephaestus’ misery after Aphrodite and Ares had been found together. Anagapesis.  His arrows are only fleeting.

He doesn’t let her know who he is.  She can’t really fall out of love with him, if she doesn’t even know who her lover is in the first place, he reasons.  If she sees him, she’ll know instantly, so he only visits at night, and forbids a lamp to be lit.  

———-

Afterwards – after the lamp was lit; after Aphrodite descended on the princess with her full wrath; after the punishments, the humiliating tasks – after they reconcile, after they marry, after they are lying together in bed with a lamp burning dimly nearby, he confesses to her.

“My arrows are fleeting,” he whispers, almost unable to force the words out.  “They sting, and men and women fall to lust, and then it wears off.  I feared your interest would wane, and I wouldn’t be able to bear it.”

She kisses him: his temple, the soft skin of his eyelid, the corner of his mouth.  “Sometimes they do, Eros.”  She hasn’t tired yet of saying his name.  “But, silly boy, people know that.  If you want to make something last longer, you have to choose to keep at it.”

He wants to just accept this, but he still remembers:  “But sometimes, people choose otherwise.  Sometimes they leave, and sometimes they have a broken heart.”

“Sometimes they do,” she concedes.  “That’s how it is.  I chose to keep trying.”

She kisses him again. “Come, Eros, let me prove it to you.”

—————-

It is shortly after their child, Hedone, is born, that the final Erote makes his appearance. Himeros is youthful and suave and is chasing after Herakles – he of the reputation for being a prolific lover, kind and attentive but rushing in after anyone who catches his eye, and has male and female lovers all over Greece and beyond.

Himeros is naughty jokes and winks; he’s happy romps in the fields between wild and careless young lovers. He falls in love easily; but moves on quickly.  He requires nearly as much babysitting as Pothos: while Pothos’ longing has to be monitored to avoid turning to obsession, Himeros has to be monitored to ensure he doesn’t go Full Fuckboi, as Hedylogos calls it.   Himeros is impetuous love

Eros is stunned to see Himeros, when he appears.  Himeros is, essentially, everything Eros used to be.  And now he’s just another way of expressing desire.  Just another part of him.

“You’ve grown up, my sweet,” Aphrodite says when he hesitantly comments on it as they relax together in a spa.  “When you were young, sex was carefree and uncomplicated.  Now you see how much more there is to what you can do.”

“All the other Erotes figured it out before me.”

She lightly slaps his arm.  “All the other Erotes  _are_  you, you goose – well, except for Hermaphroditus.  But otherwise, if they seem to know more than you, it’s only because you knew it and didn’t want to deal with it at the time.”

“….So what am  _I_ , now?”  This has been weighing on his mind for a while.  Himeros is the clear role of who Eros used to be, and he isn’t sure what that means for him now.

“You’re who you always were, Eros, my dear.  The force that drives them all.  You’re the basis of all of them, and coordinate as appropriate.”

“…The squad leader,” he suggests, warming up to the idea.

“Right!” she smiles at him and sips the wine she has nearby.  “You should come up with a squad theme.”

A moment of silence, then Eros asks: “So… Himeros is a lot like younger me, right?”

“There’s a resemblance, to be sure,” she observes dryly.  

“Was I really always that annoying?”

“Yes,” Aphrodite says, firmly, then kisses his cheek to take the sting out of her words.  “But endearingly so, my darling.  You were very innocent, as Himeros is now.”

————–

Of course, Eros doesn’t have favorites, and if he did, it would be Psyche for sure.

But Ganymede is the cutest, funniest little guy, and Eros adores having him around.  He thinks of the kid as his little brother, and takes him under his wing.  The idea of him joining the Erotes turns out to be a bust – a long, sad story, and one that Eros luckily has more experience to deal with now.  

But Erote or not, Ganymede and Eros are thick as thieves, and spend a great deal of time horsing around together and raising hell on Olympus.  Gany is Eros’ strongest ally in the prank war against Hermes, and it’s Gany who recruits Zephyrus into the battles as well.  

Ganymede and Zephyrus have a great dealt to talk about, together, regarding romantic aspiration and loss.  

In spite of his closeness with the cupbearer, it’s nearly three centuries after he’s brought up to Olympus, that Gany finally confesses something to Eros regarding those discussions:

“I used to really worry about it.  Like maybe I was just the first thing Zeus saw that day… or maybe even that Zeus was the first person  _I_ saw.  I mean, obviously I was wrong, but it’s just… you had a reputation, you know?  And so did he.  So I worried all the time that it was gonna wear off and I’d be this awful hanger-on, forgotten but still having to stay here.”

His reputation.  Yeah, Eros had been a real terror back in the day, hadn’t he?  He smiles at Gany, tweaking his nose.

“Nahhh, it was real affection all along.  Guess you know that now, though.”

They’re lying around lazily, draped over a hammock that overlooks the cloudscape.  Eros continues.  “No one, not even the Erotes, can keep the feeling lasting forever. All we do is our best to coordinate and help out.”

Gany turns a small but brilliant smile on him.  “It’s real nice of you.  So, no arrows for me and Zeus?”

“Well, I didn’t say that.”

There’s a pause.  Eros hides a smile.

“I mean, you can’t expect a leopard to change his spots  _completely_ , right?  I wouldn’t be Eros if I wasn’t raising a little hell!”

“So… the arrows….” Ganymede sounds  _highly_  suspicious.  

“Nothing major.  Just gave you a couple of fun little kinks. Ones I knew Zeus would appreciate.”

Gany’s face goes  _red_.  “Y-you… you know about those?!”

Eros laughs, delighted at his friend’s embarrassment.  “Well, yeah! I’m the reason anyone has kinks at all! It’s just a harmless way to keep sex amusing.  That’s what my arrows are good for anymore, the rest is all business.”

Gany hides his burning face in his hands.  “Oh my god, Eros, I’m gonna  _die_.”

Eros scoffs, poking Ganymede.  “Oh, come on, there’s nothing weird about it!  Lots of people have a kink for being – ”

Ganymede attempts to shove Eros off the hammock.  “Ughh!!  Stop talking about it all nonchalantly!  It’s so embarrassing!”

“It’s not, it’s super cute!”

“Stop calling my kinks cute – stop talking about them at all!” They’re wrestling around on the hammock now, in danger of both being turned over.

“It’s my job!  It’s business!  It’s no more embarrassing than collaborative subsidies and entrepreneurial markets and stuff.”

“You don’t even know what those words mean!  You only know sex words,” Gany accuses, laughing.

“… Occupational percentage bondage quotas…”

This sets Ganymede off again, and they do end up dumped on the ground, and for a long time afterwards, Gany can’t be in the same room as Eros and any length of cord without going red again.

——————————-

In the present day, Ganymede is dozed off in the passenger seat of the VW van that Eros is using as his chariot today – he likes the aesthetic, and it also is the rare vehicle that fits all the Erotes comfortably inside.  

They’re cruising around, waiting for the moment when that kid Icarus gets off shift – Icarus, Gany’s intended champion of romantic aspiration, who has been reincarnated and caught the attention of the sun idiots.  Zephyrus, for the moment, has politely declined to attend as the Erotes jump Icarus for a birthday surprise.  The wind god isn’t sure he ought to be involved with another of Apollo’s romantic interests.

So it’s the seven Erotes, plus Ganymede, crammed into a VW van painted in gauche heart designs.  In accordance with this spirit of the sixties, they’re listening to the Beatles’ White Album, and “Why Don’t We Do It in the Road” comes on.

“Wow, they really got Himeros down pat, didn’t they?” Hermaphroditus snickers, elbowing the youngest Erote and laughing.

Eros smiles, letting the others tease Himeros, and allows the faint twinge of nostalgia to come and go. Uncomplicated sex has its place. But even if it’s taken him a long road to realize it, Eros knows now that there’s a lot more.  


End file.
